


Sometimes It Lasts In Love

by HawthornSparks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adele – Freeform, Drama, F/M, Romance, Songfic, dramione - Freeform, romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthornSparks/pseuds/HawthornSparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dramione Songfic: Someone Like You – Adele. </p><p>Hermione must make a choice in love. “Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.”</p><p>All italicised lyrics are from Adele’s Someone Like You, and have been written by Adele and Dan Wilson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one that I had originally worked on several years ago, and posted on other sites. It was never beat-ed initially, so apologies for any spelling/grammar slip-ups that I've still missed over the past few years!!
> 
> Would love to know your thoughts on this!

_I heard that you're settled down,_  
That you found a girl, and you're married now.  
I heard that your dreams came true,  
I guess she gave you things I didn't give to you.

Hermione gazed out the window, unable to focus on the droplets pattering against the pane of glass. The Daily Prophet that had arrived that morning lay strewn across the dining table, tear stains marking the paragraph announcing the birth of the new Malfoy heir, Scorpius Hyperion.

Her heart heavy as tears continued to fall down her cheeks, matching the weather beyond the glass barrier, she turned back to the living room of her empty flat, a bitter reminder of her solitude.

Hermione rarely received visitors nowadays. Her imposed isolation built walls around her that she hadn’t been aware of, until her birthday passed her by with little thought of the day and minimal contact from the outside world.

Her personal relationship with the Minister for Magic, former Order member Kingsley Shacklebolt, provided a further segregation from the business beyond her front door, as she quickly received approval for completing all her work from home.

A blustered owl tapped at the window she had previously stared past, the rain coating her forearms as she opened the latch to let it in. The bird held its leg out, nipping her gently, affectionately, as the damp parchment grazed her knuckles. She untied the haphazard knot, an evident sign of the sender of the letter, when the owl trilled softly before leaving again through the open window.

The scrawl across the front of the folded note further confirmed that Hermione’s dear friend had written to her, no doubt aware of the social proclamation in the morning’s newspaper, but lacking the emotional know-how to deal with her sensitive state, she was grateful that Harry had at least thought to check on her.

His written words dictated so, as he insisted she must come to the Potter’s for an evening sometime soon, although both knew full well this was most unlikely. Hermione smiled at the smudged ink, the muscles in her jaw aching from underuse, as she trailed towards the kitchen of her modest apartment, intent on seeking comfort in a wine bottle.

_Old friend, why are you so shy?  
It ain't like you to hold back or hide from the lie._

The Wizarding Wireless in the corner of her living room set to plain white noise, Hermione wrapped the thick blanket tighter around her body, wishing herself the common sense that would have given her the foresight to close the window earlier that day.

Her curtains were damp from the continual rain, and a small puddle from the wet feathers of another delivering owl, this time from Ginny, had been left to dry on her dining table.

A knock at her front door caused her to start, knocking the long-empty wine bottle from the low table facing the sofa she now huddled against. As it rolled across the floorboards, away from her, Hermione lurched to her feet, previously unaware of how the red liquid had affected her.

She stumbled to the door, tripping on the blanket still enveloping her, as the knock sounded again. A foolish hope stemmed deep within her, as she attempted to firmly dampen the irrational optimism of the identity of her late-night visitor.

The door swung to from the frame as she finally mastered the set of locks, and a windswept head of ginger hair came into view. She sagged against the doorway, unable to prevent the acidic disappointment coursing through her. Ron’s arms supporting her, she was unaware she had slipped towards the floor until he laid her on the sofa she had been resting against before his arrival.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of her taking in her neglected state, aware she had probably ignored daily functions such as eating, in favour of wallowing in her melancholy.

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,_  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,   
I had hoped you'd see my face,  
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over.

‘Hermione...’

‘You don’t need to be here.’ Her muffled voice came through the pillow she had buried her face in.

‘Yes, I do.’

A sound somewhere between a choked laugh and strangled sob was her reply.

‘Hermione, I care about you. We all do. I just wanted to see...’

‘See what, Ronald? See if I’m still here? In case I’d chucked myself off my eighth floor balcony?’ The bitterness in her eyes caused him to flinch at her tone. Noticing his reaction, she softened slightly, aware that she couldn’t inflict her own pain onto the gentle soul in front of her.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to be, ’Mione. I understand, you know. More than you realise.’

‘Understand?’ The anger flared up inside her, stoking the flames the lit the darkness encumbering her being. ‘Ronald Weasley, understand heartbreak? Don’t make me laugh.’

‘You know, while you’ve been shut up in here for months on end, wallowing in what-might-have been, the rest of us have been getting on our with our lives...’

‘Really helping, Ron, thanks a bunch.’ She sat up, righting herself.

‘No, I’m just trying to say...’ He paused, studying his shoes. ‘I’m just trying to say that other people out there have felt the same thing. I know it’s hit you hard, Hermione. I’ve seen what it’s done to you. But...’ He paused again.

‘Ron, I just need time. I’ll snap out of it eventually.’ She reached out a hand, placing her warmth on his cold fingers. ‘And then life can go back to normal. I’ll be back to normal. I just... I can’t just flip a switch and turn my feeling off. It’s not like that.’

‘I’m well aware.’ He muttered. He raised his eyes, meeting her puffy-eyed gaze, ‘But this doesn’t have to be the end for you, you know.’

‘It’s not the end for me, of course it’s not. You know I wouldn’t do anything stupid. After all, you and Harry couldn’t cope without me, we all know that.’ She smiled, interlinking their fingers.

‘I don’t mean... Merlin, I don’t mean that.’ He watched their hands, swaying slightly together between them. ‘I mean, you might love again Hermione. You will be able to love someone again, after all this.’

‘Oh, Ron.’ She stilled.

He stood up, pacing slightly away from her.

‘You know...’ He began. She heard him swallow before restarting, aware of how hard this would be for him, for the both of them.

‘You know how I feel about you, Hermione. How I’ve always felt. I just... I wanted to... I wanted to remind you. That you aren’t alone.’

‘Ron, I...’

‘I know, I know. I’m well aware of your feelings, and your emotions. I just wanted you to be aware of mine. Because, after all of this...’ He turned back to face her, ‘After all of this, I can’t help but love you. And maybe... Maybe in a while...’ He stepped toward her, taking both her hands in his, ‘You might learn to love me too.’

She looked down, unable to meet his searching eyes.

‘Hermione, I can’t bear to see you like this. And I know it’s something you need to go through, something you have to go through in order to come out the other side. But, maybe, once in a while, you might think about me. Because I’ll always be here for you.’

‘Ron...’ She mumbled, as he continued on.

‘I understand that you love me as a friend. But feelings change. People change. And... And I want to say this now, while I can, and please, don’t feel you have to give me an answer now, in fact I’d rather you didn’t. But it will always stand, whether you come back to me in a week, a year, ten, twenty years, I will wait for you. Because I love you Hermione. And, at some point in our lives, I would very much like to make you my wife.’

She took a step back in shock as the blood drained out of her face. This, she had not been expecting. 

‘In a way, it’s a safer option for the both of us. You know, not... Not necessarily a fall-back, but people can learn to love each other. And I would never hurt you. You know I could never do that to you.’

She sat down heavily on the sofa, unable to think clearly, unable to see clearly, as he rambled on about safe-guarding their future. Her thoughts became slightly less muddled as she managed to interrupt him.

‘Ron, please. Just... Stop. I need... I need time to... process this...’

‘Yeah,’ He straightened up, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets, ‘Yeah, of course.’

‘I think it would be best if you left now.’

‘Sure. Look, don’t... Don’t get up. I can see myself out.’ He turned away from her as she sat, tense, waiting for the door to click shut. She felt herself let out a deep breath she hadn’t realised she was holding when she heard the latch. She slumped back onto the cushions, her mind tripping over itself as she attempted to make sense of the evening.

 

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you.  
I wish nothing but the best for you, too, _

Hermione was back by the window, watching the sun rise over the urban horizon of Greater London, her head finally clear and her thoughts ordered.

She moved back into her flat, feeling a fraction of the heavy weight that had burdened her chest for an immeasurable length of time, lift from her. She stooped to pick up the abandoned wine bottle from where it had trailed to before the insanity of the previous night’s events. 

She set it to rest on top of the dining table it had come to a stop against, noting the newspaper that had been blown about a little across the table top. Pulling it towards her and holding onto the ledge for support, she traced the printed words of the announcement with her index finger. 

_Don't forget me, I beg,_ _  
I remember you said,_ __  
"Sometimes it lasts in love,  
But sometimes it hurts instead," 

She folded the newspaper twice before heading into the kitchen to deposit it in her recycling bin, aware that wherever she left it, the words would still creep into her mind.

Closing the lid of the box, Hermione braced herself against the work top, running through Ron’s words from the night before.

_‘I understand that you love me as a friend. But feelings change. People change.’_

She knew she could not let this feeling of despair crush her completely, ruining her chance for a real life, a real future.

A real family.

As the sun broke fully over the new day, Hermione slowed her movements to stop her hand from shaking any more than it already was, as she reached for the quill and parchment, marking out one word:

**Yes.**

_  
Sometimes it lasts in love,  
But sometimes it hurts instead._


	2. Chapter 2

 

_You know how the time flies,  
Only yesterday was the time of our lives._

The past few months, weeks really, had gone by in a flash.

The Weasley family had greatly accepted her back into their arms, Ron’s enthusiasm encapsulating them all. Only Harry and Ginny remained concerned for their friend’s welfare, only they seemed aware of the haunted look that remained in Hermione’s eyes, her smile never quite chasing away.

The Ministry also took great joy in the upcoming nuptials, announcing an all-expenses paid ball for high society as well as the couple’s family and friends. Ron was elated that he would get to celebrate such a wonderful occasion with so many, fearing his family’s financial situation dictating limitations.

Hermione couldn’t have felt worse.

She insisted on remaining at her flat most nights, stating it would be more momentous for them to move in together once officially married, secretly relishing in the last days of her isolation, knowing she would never again get to enjoy the solitude that she so cherished.

Ginny arrived with Fleur’s make-up bag and a new dress donated by Madam Malkin herself an hour before the ball, to find the bride-to-be once more cocooned in a blanket on the sofa.

‘Hermione. Come on, I know you don’t want to do this.’

An indistinguishable groan sounded in response from the bundle on the sofa.

‘But this is what you’ve chosen. This is what you wanted to do.’

A silent pause shifted the air between the two women, as Hermione slowly unwrapped herself.

‘Trust me, I hate bringing it up as much as you hate me saying it.’ Ginny told her friend. ‘But, by the grace of Merlin, I’m going to transform you for tonight, woman.’

The red-head, taking her silence as acquiescence, watched the brunette stomp her way through to her bathroom, grateful that her mane of curls would get a wash before having to take on the task of taming it into something manageable for the evening.

Ginny sighed as she collapsed onto the sofa, reminiscing over the days when Hermione used to get excited at the thought of dressing up, before her heart was well and truly mangled.

_We were born and raised in a summer haze,  
Bound by the surprise of our glory days._

 

 

Hermione and Ginny had met Ron and Harry in a side chamber, off to one side of the great ballroom  that had been concealed within the depths of the Ministry.

Ron’s jaw dropped in awe of his soon-to-be wife, as he was prone to do more and more frequently of late.

As the group greeted each other, each man offered his arm to the women and each couple proceeded to enter the Hall atop a great staircase sweeping down onto the floor below.

A chorus of applause and cheers came for the engaged couple when they were presented to the room, as the married Potters descended into the crowd. Hermione kept a close eye on Ginny, afraid to lose her amongst the great, dancing mass of people.

The music continued on as Hermione almost ran down the steps, fearful of being accosted with the congratulations of well-wishers. Finally finding her best friends as her fiancé caught up with her, she breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Not so bad, yet?’ Ron tentatively smiled down at her.

‘Not so bad,’ She replied, fixing her face into the forced smile she had perfected over the past weeks.

A new song, lighter yet with a gentle rhythm, began as Ron offered his hand to her.

‘It will be expected after all,’ Ginny gently nudged her, leaning forward to whisper into her ear ‘And the sooner expectations are met, the sooner you can leave.’

Hermione nodded, taking Ron’s hand as his thumb swept comforting circles across the back of her own.

He held her close to him, in a protective embrace rather than romantic, out on the dancefloor. Hermione felt her pulse quicken and her throat tighten at the thought of being so exposed amongst so many, as his arms tightened around her, relaxing her, swaying her to the steady beat.

‘I promise this will be over soon.’ He murmured through her curls.

‘I’m sorry I’m making you go through this.’ She replied.

‘Nonsense.’ She felt him smile, ‘Besides, it’s always nice to see the look on my work mates’ faces when I get to twirl the most beautiful woman in the room around the floor.’

She stiffened slightly at his compliment, knowing that he was just trying to make her smile. But still, she knew the words meant more to him than they did, or could, for her.

As the music slowed to a finish and polite applause broke out around the room for the live band, Hermione looked towards an exit.

‘Ron, I...’

‘I know. Go get some air, or something.’ He smiled again, knowing she needed the space, before sweeping his sister into a dance.

She managed to work her way through the crowd without much interaction before reaching a door propped open, the cool November breeze blowing against her flushed skin.

Edging through the gap of the sturdy door, Hermione found herself out on a balcony. Unsure of the exact charm used to create the illusion of being outdoors, as she surely knew they were still within the Ministry confines, she pushed the logical thoughts aside and took in the moment’s privacy. She leant against the stone balustrade, embracing the chill biting at her bare skin, letting her mind go blank for a short minute, before she heard the door being shuffled open once again, footsteps following the same path she had taken, before round the corner to where she rested.

 

She looked up with a smile in greeting for one of her friends, when her stomach dropped at the sight of her intruder.

‘No.’

‘Please...’


	3. Chapter 3

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,_  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,   
I had hoped you'd see my face,  
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over.

 

She turned her back, facing out across the barrier, certain she would retch at any moment.

‘Hermione...’

‘No! You do not get to call me that.’

‘Hermione, please, if I can just...’

 ‘What are you doing here, Malfoy?’ She spat, the fissures in her heart straining at the very sight of the man who had caused her so much anguish.

He stood, staring at her, drinking in the sight of her, memorising each line, each curve, each freckle of her beauty.

‘I asked you what you...’

‘We separated.’ He interrupted.

This took her by surprise. She stumbled slightly, gripping the banister for support.

‘Damn heels,’ She tried to excuse herself.

He chuckled lightly, seeing through her justification.

‘Here,’ He bent down, his long fingers nimbly working the straps of her shoes, easing her feet out of them and setting them down on the smooth marble, resting a moment too long on her ankles and calves.

‘Draco... Don’t...’ She pleaded as he straightened up, standing almost a foot taller than her now.

‘I said, we separated. Astoria and I. We’re currently going through divorce proceedings.’

‘That’s... nice.’ Hermione was at a loss for words.

His stormy grey eyes resting on her face, he waited for her to meet his gaze.

‘How’s Scorpius?’ She asked, attempting to diffuse the tension.

‘Naive. Innocent. He’s yet to learn heartache.’ His phrasing surprised her as she finally made eye contact with her past lover.

‘Draco...’

‘Hermione, you know I had no choice. Literally. There was no way out, believe me, I tried.’

She was silent once more, already familiar with his words.

‘I had the best members of the Wizengamot look the contract over. I... I even took it to the Minister, Shacklebolt,to see if there was anything, anything at all that he could do, Hermione, I...’

‘Please.’ She stopped him, ‘Please don’t.’

She watched his shoulders sag, as she reached to brush a piece of invisible thread off his suit jacket, before thinking better of the physical contact between them, and lowered her hand.

‘I know you think you’ve heard it before, but I need you to know. I tried.’

‘I know.’ She smiled momentarily. ‘And it’s done now.’

‘No, it doesn’t have to be...’

‘Draco, I’m marrying Ron in a few weeks.’

‘You don’t have to...’

‘I’m afraid I do.’ She reached again for his lapel, brushing it down lightly, wishing for more, yet knowing there could not be.

‘I had to see you.’

‘I know.’ She repeated.

‘Ginny told me. Please don’t be mad at her.’

‘I’m not. I suspected she might.’

The conversation paused as he again longed for her to look at him.

‘I wish I could make you understand, Hermione.’

‘I do, too.’ She sighed. ‘But I can’t. I’m not sure I ever will.’

Unable to take the strain on his own heart, Draco reached for her hands.

‘Come with me.’

‘What?’ She looked up at him.

‘Me and Scorpius. I’m taking him with me to Bulgaria. We leave in January. I’m transferring to their Auror department out there. Mother has a property not far from where the Bulgarian Ministry is, so there’ll be plenty of room, and she wants to be on hand to help with Scorp, and the grounds are beautiful, and the library, oh you’d love the library...’

‘Draco.’ She stopped him again. ‘It sounds lovely.’

‘It does. It is.’ He told her, hope blossoming in his eyes.

She gently let go of his hands, letting them rest at his sides, as she watched the light of his dream fade slowly from behind his mercurial depths.

‘You know I can’t. We can’t.’ She stepped back to the balcony balustrade, ‘We chose our own paths, Draco. We can’t just up and leave, I certainly can’t. And I will not break the heart of a man who loves me.’

‘No? And what about me?’

‘You’ll go to Bulgaria, and raise your son.’

‘But I love you too. More than him, I can guarantee you that.’

‘Yes, but he is yet to hurt me like you.’ She watched him visibly flinch from the corner of her eye.

He nodded as she took a step away from him, back towards the ballroom.

‘Draco,’ she called his attention back to her, unsurprised at the tears gently coursing their way down his face. ‘I love you. And I probably always will.’ 

She stepped closer to him, raising her fingers to wipe away some of his tears. ‘But I need to move on. We both do. We can’t hold on to a what-might-have been.’ She told him, quoting her future husband.

‘It still could be,’ He attempted, stifling a sob, knowing defeat was staring him in the face. She stroked her fingertips across his cheekbones and jawline.

‘You’d love Scorp, you know.’ She smiled at him, knowing he’d already be a wonderful father. ‘I wish you could meet him.’

‘I will one day. I’m sure of it.’ She told him.

He gently embraced her, marvelling at how she still fit so perfectly in his arms, after everything they’d been through. She rested her forehead against his chest for a brief moment, before pulling back.

‘I have to go.’ He nodded.

‘As do I. Fatherhood calls, after all.’

Hermione reached up to touch the face of the man she was so desperately in love with, the only one who could fix her broken heart, even after being the one to shatter it so resolutely.

‘Goodbye Draco.’ She murmured, letting her eyes rest on his once more, before turning her back on him and walking back to her engagement celebration.

‘Goodbye... Hermione.’ He whispered into the night, watching the only woman he ever could or ever would love, disappearing towards a future she didn’t deserve.

 

 _Never mind, I'll find someone like you.  
I wish nothing but the best for you, too, _  
 _Don't forget me, I beg,_ _  
I remember you said,_ __  
Sometimes it lasts in love,  
But sometimes it hurts instead.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

_Nothing compares,  
No worries or cares._

 

Hermione Jean Granger sat alone on the morning of her wedding to her childhood best friend, Ronald Bilius Weasley.

She had forgone the tradition of a hen-night, in favour of sitting in with Ginny, watching awful Muggle films with far too much ice cream to eat and drinking perhaps too much red wine. The next morning had been terrible, had it not been for Mrs. Weasley arriving, frying pans in tow, ready to cook up a grease-fest of a fried breakfast for the duo.

Hermione had managed to escape almost all factors of her impending wedding that would normally have been under total control of the bride. Ginny’s mastery at heading off Fleur’s involvement was a true life-saver at times, as only Hermione’s closest friends were aware of her emotional shut down when it came to all matters wedding.

Now, sat in a dressing room of the bridal sweet in perhaps the best Wizarding hotel in all of Britain, Hermione couldn’t help but let a few tears escape. She brushed through her hair once more, leaving it partly down for a veil to cover her face through the majority of the ceremony.

She leant forwards on the intricately-designed dressing table, resting her forehead in her hands. She refused to let her mind wander to her what-might-have-been wedding, or her could-have-been husband, and what he and his song were doing at that moment.

She had heard through Ginny that Draco and his son would be leaving the country a mere two days after her wedding. She wished she could have met Scorpius. Ginny had relayed information that he was the spitting image of his father already.

But Hermione wasn’t sure her heart would be able to take the pressure.

She had long felt that her own beating heart would never truly provide her with the thrill of emotions again, but since meeting him out on the balcony at her own engagement party, she realised that it had begun to beat a steady rhythm once more. 

For Draco Malfoy.

_Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,  
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_

A light tap at the door sounded in the silence of the room. She gently wiped the marks underneath her lashes, calling for her visitor to enter.

As Ginny stepped up behind her almost-sister-in-law, she wasn’t sure whether to smile or sob. Hermione had never looked more beautiful. 

In a modest dress, as the few things she had called for were all to be modest, Ginny wasn’t sure she’d ever seen such an epitome of grace and elegance. But her friend’s eyes, even in the mirror, were troubled, ghostly, holding the ethereal image of a woman who had loved with all her being and so desperately lost. 

‘Hermione...’

‘Don’t say it. I know what you’re going to say, and I can’t hear it.’ She held her head in her hands once more. ‘I have to do this, Gin. It’s better for everyone.’

‘Better for whom, exactly? Surely not Ron, leading him into a loveless marriage, and you know it will always be loveless...’

‘He knows what he’s getting himself into.’

‘Better for Draco? To leave him to start a new life, alone, when he so desperately wants to be with you and to love you?’

‘He had that opportunity. He didn’t want it.’

‘Oh bollocks, Hermione Granger.’ Ginny forced the bride to turn around and face her.

‘That man did nothing but try to find a way out of that god-awful contract drawn up by his parents when he was a _child_ , Hermione. He didn’t want any part of it, and you know it!’

‘He had a baby with her, he must have wanted something out of it.’

‘He was expected to father an heir! It was one of the few ways out of the whole sorry situation! You know full well all the ridiculous laws concerning pureblood families, and pureblood marriages. You’re the one that’s supposed to be busy rewriting them for the Ministry. And instead you’ve been moping about for nearly a year. Crying your eyes out, wringing your heart to shreds. And we’ve had to bear the brunt of this! We’ve been the ones constantly picking up the pieces of you and your life Hermione. And I have had it.’ Ginny paused for breath, flinging her arms into the air in exasperation. ‘You could go, you know? You could pack up your bag, walk out that door and go and _find_ him. You know he’s not leaving for another day or so. And you know he wants to take you. And by Merlin, we would all be eternally happy for you if you did, Ron included.’

‘I can’t! I can’t just drop everything and go and start a new life with a man who broke me! That’s ridiculous!’

‘Is it?’ Ginny shot back. ‘Isn’t that exactly what you’ve wanted since the very moment the two of you realised there was more standing in your way than just old prejudices?’

‘That was different...’

‘How so, Hermione? Because all I can see is a woman refusing her own dreams because of some pathetic and misguided sense of duty. Do you like punishing yourself? Is that what this is about? Do you feel like you have some bizarre kind of penance to pay?’ Ginny had marched across the room towards Hermione, quivering in her bridal dress.

‘For being happy? For choosing a slightly more risky path than others? For falling in love? Give me a break.’

‘Ginny, I...’

‘No, I am done with sorting out your mess Hermione. I am done with watching you waste opportunity after opportunity. I just wish it wasn’t my brother you were about to screw up too.’

Hermione gasped, as if her friend had slapped her across the face.

Ginny sat down on the stool, her head in her hands.

‘’Mione I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to do this when I walked in here.’ She looked up at her friend, ‘I’d actually wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.’

‘Oh, Gin.’ Hermione fell to her knees in front of her, grasping her in a tight embrace. ‘I turned him down. I don’t even know if he still wants me.’

‘Oh you daft troll,’ Ginny laughed, still holding tightly to her friend. ‘Of course he still wants you. That boy will never let you go.’

Hermione laughed with her, as the two women wiped away their tears.

‘Ginny, what am I going to do about all this?’ She gestured to her dress and the accessories surrounding her. ‘What about Ron? I can’t hurt him. I love him too much.’

A nervous tap at the door interrupted their thoughts as the man himself stuck his head around the door, his shaggy, red hair tamed for once, and eyes firmly shut.

‘Talk of the dragon, and he shall appear,’ Ginny smiled.

‘Just wanted to know how things are in here.’

‘Ron, you can come in.’ Hermione called, getting to her feet.

‘I’m going to go and fix myself up and find Harry.’ Ginny cast a meaningful glance at her friend before touching Ron’s shoulder affectionately as she left.

‘Ron, I...’

‘I think it’s about time we had a chat, ‘Mione.’ Ron sat down, no longer wearing the smile he was moments ago.

‘Oh, Ron.’ Hermione felt herself welling up as she sat down next to him on the white bench along the wall. She felt his arms wrap around her as before, protective and caring.

‘I’m not sure there’s too much to be said though.’ He murmured into her hair.

He held her for a long while as her mascara tears slowly ruined the shirt he had bought for his wedding day.

‘I love you, Ronald.’ She choked out, in between ragged gasps for air.

‘I know you do.’ He held her tightly for a moment before releasing her, to gently bringing his hand to her cheek. ‘And I love you too. Which is why I want you to be happy.’

‘I am happy.’

‘No. You’re not. And we’ve all known that for a long time.’ She nodded softly, understanding what she had been putting those dearest to her through.

‘Hermione, I know. I’ve always known. I guess I just hoped that...’ He broke off, his eyes dropping from hers.

‘Me too. Really.’

‘I guess I just thought that I’d at least be able to take care of you properly if we went through with this.’

‘Your heart’s in the right place, Ron. I wish it could have been.’

He smiled, leaning forwards to touch his own forehead to hers.

‘You know, you’re going to make a wonderful husband some day.’

‘Oh, I know I will,’ He winked at her with mock arrogance.

She smiled at him, with what felt like her first true smile for a long time.

‘And now, Miss Granger, may I at least help you into your coat?’

‘My coat?’

‘I believe you have a romantic mission to embark upon.’

‘Oh, Ron, I don’t even know if I can...’

‘Hermione Granger, I do suppose that you were sorted into Gryffindor once upon a time, along with myself and old Scarhead hovering about the other side of that door. Where’s your damn courage, woman?’

Laughing, Hermione embraced her best friend tightly, kissing his cheek as she pulled away. Her giggles stopped short when he stooped to one knee in front of her.

‘May I?’

‘May you what?’ She questioned, warily.

‘Come on, come here,’ 

‘For what, what’s going on?’

‘Come _here._ ’ Ron caught a hold of her left hand. ‘Hermione Jean Granger, would you do me the honour of taking off that ring and running after the man you love?’

‘Ronald Bilius Weasley, you are the greatest man I’ve ever known.’

‘Crikey, and we both knew Dumbledore. And Neville for that matter.’

Hermione smiled, bending forward to kiss his forehead, placing her engagement ring in his hand.

‘Just, you know, name a kid after me or something. Anything’s got to be better than Scorpius.’ He pulled a face, standing up. ‘Or an owl. That would be fine. Better still, a ferret.’

‘You know full well that I’m going to get a Crookshanks the Second and call him Ronald. Matching fur and all.’

‘Hey!’

Laughing, they embraced once more, as Ron called the missing member of their trio in.

‘About time,’ Harry muttered as he approached the two, before being swiftly pulled into a hug.

‘Right,’ Harry announced, rubbing his hands together, ‘I believe Mrs. Potter has some kind of transport ready for you. And no, not a broom, I promise.’ He grinned at the sheer look of terror that passed his friend’s features.

Ron walked across the room to the stand near the door, to retrieve Hermione’s coat, as Harry held her hands tightly.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

‘More than anything, Harry. I love him.’

‘Well thank Merlin you’ve finally realised!’ Harry crowed, pulling her in once more for a hug.

The corridors buzzed as Hermione was bustled out to a car waiting by the front of the hotel. As Hermione sat in the back seat, ready to start a new life with the man she loved, and Ginny passed the address to the driver, she looked around at the faces of the people she loved, all intent on seeing her happy. Her family.

The engine hummed, and Hermione pulled away into the distance from the watching crowd, awash with nerves and excitement.

As people began filtering back inside, intent on filling up on the reception buffet before the Ministry realised they weren’t paying for a wedding after all, Harry Potter stood solidly next to his red-haired best friend.

‘You alright, mate?’

‘Yeah,’ Ron sniffed. ‘I’m glad she’s happy.’

‘Yeah, me too.’ Harry agreed, resting a comforting hand on the taller man’s shoulder. ‘There’s someone for you, too, you know.’

‘I know.’

Harry squeezed Ron’s shoulder once more, before heading back into the building, sensing the almost-groom needed a moment alone.

 

 _Never mind, I'll find someone like you.  
I wish nothing but the best for you, too, _  
 _Don't forget me, I beg,_ _  
I remember you said,_ __  
Sometimes it lasts in love,  
But sometimes it hurts instead.


	5. Epilogue

 

A door buzzer sounded in a Westminster flat. A young child, not much more than a year old, holding the side of his playpen for support, squawked in response. His father dashed about, packing up the last remaining boxes and suitcases in the flat, ensuring there would be enough food for the next day, and clean clothes to wear.

The blonde man was almost intent on ignoring their would-be visitor, had it not been for his son’s persistent screeching.

‘Alright, Scorp! That’s enough. I’ll see who it is.’

 

* * *

 

Hermione Granger, still in her wedding dress, had been pressing the buzzer ofthe address she’d been given for Draco Malfoy.

The man she loved.

After her fifth press, and no sign of life from the intercom, or the front door of the apartment building. She slumped against the door frame.

She couldn’t believe it.

She had missed him.

She was so sure of the date she’d been given, but he must have left the country earlier.

She slid to the ground in despair, not caring for stains or damage to her dress, the mascara stains already spoiling its pristine, white colouring.

Feeling desolate, and not about to cry on a street corner, Hermione stood up and brushed herself off, determined to find some other way to contact him, she stepped away from the front of the building.

 

* * *

 

The buzzer had stopped by the time Draco picked up the intercom phone, more keen on settling his son than receiving a visitor.

‘Hello?’ Draco spoke into the phone, a bored tone saturating his voice. He had long ago dampened the feeling of hope that used to spring up in him every time the phone had sounded.

He knew Hermione wasn’t coming. Despite what Potter and Weaslette-Potter might have told him, assured him, he knew she couldn’t drop everything for him. She wasn’t that type of person. He loved her for it, but at times that side of her personality could be quite frustrating.

‘Hello? Anyone there?’ He spoke again. Realising there would be no reply, Draco hung the phone up on the wall.

‘See, Scorp? Someone probably just pressed the wrong button.’

 

* * *

 

Hermione dashed back the few steps she’d taken down the street.

She had been certain, _certain_ , that she’d heard his voice.

He was here! Still here! He hadn’t gone without her. He was up there now, packing most likely. Probably had to wade his way through boxes to get to the phone. Whatever reason, she didn’t care. 

She dashed up the steps, almost tripping on the hem of her dress as she slammed her hand down on the button once more.

 

* * *

 

Scorpius’ squeals were heard once more as the phone sounded again.

Frustrated with what Draco assumed was a bunch of kids messing about outside, he wrenched the handset from its cradle and bellowed ‘ _Yes_?!’ quite loudly down the receiver.

After a short pause, he almost hung up again, but not before he heard a timid ‘Draco?’ down the line.

It was her.

No. Not possible. Today was her wedding day. The date had been ingrained into his mind since Ginny Potter had told him. Why would she be here? How could she be at his flat, the other side of London from where she was supposed to be?

‘Who-Who’s there?’ He questioned, needing to be sure. His heart beat an erratic rhythm inside his chest, willing the telephone in his hand to realise her voice for him.

‘Draco?’ It was her. It was Hermione. He couldn’t believe it.

‘Hermione? Is that you?’ He breathlessly articulated.

‘Yes, it’s me. Could I... Could I maybe come up?’

‘Of course!’ His hand already holding down the entrance button on his handset, he looked round to his son, already beaming at him, until he heard the front door click shut.

Hanging up the handset, he leaped across the room towards the one-year-old.

‘Scorp, it’s her! It’s really her!’ He crowed, swinging his child up into his arms, raising him high above his head as the infant squawked and gurgled in enjoyment.

The Malfoy pair danced around the almost empty flat, shuffling boxes out of the way to make a clear path through to each room.

A knock on the door caused them both to fall silent. Draco kissed his son’s head as he placed him back into the playpen before hesitantly making his way through to the door.

What if he’d misread this? What if she was here to tell him she couldn’t come with him, but thanks very much for the offer?

Struggling with his emotions, Draco wrapped his fingers around the door handle. Inhaling deeply, he opened the door to the woman who had captured his heart.

‘Hermione.’ He breathed.

‘Draco.’ She responded, her face mirroring the emotions of his own.

‘You’re... wearing a wedding dress?’ He had meant to tell he she was beautiful, stunning, the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

‘Yes,’ She said, sheepishly. ‘Could I come in?’

‘Of course,’ Draco replied, silently berating himself for leaving her outside for so long.

‘I’ve just come from... from the hotel.’ She told him, casting an eye around the packed-up flat.

Draco’s heart sank. She was here to show him, to rub it in his face, that they could never be.

‘W-Was the ceremony... good?’ He tried to keep composed.

‘I don’t know. Although I’m sure they’re all enjoying the Ministry-funded reception right about now.’ She smiled at him. His heart leapt.

She raised her left hand, wiggling her fingers at him.

‘Ron took his ring back, cancelled the wedding. He knows. He understands. They all do. They want us to be together, Draco.’

She paused, unsure of what to do, when she had no response from the man before her for a full minute.

‘Draco...?’

‘A-And you? Do you want us to? To be to-together I mean?’

‘Oh Draco,’ She beamed, taking a step towards him and sliding her arms around his neck. ‘More than anything in the world.’

Laughing with utter ecstasy, he slid his strong arms around her waist lifting her into the air, almost as he had done with his son, not moments ago. His son!

‘Hermione! You have to meet someone!’ He dragged her through to what had previously been a living room, a playpen situated in the middle of the room, picking up a chubby infant, crested with the trademark white-blonde hair.

‘Hermione Granger, I would very much like you to meet Master Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.’

She gasped as the toddler turned his eyes onto her own, the purity and happiness radiating from the child eradicating any doubts she had had about entrusting her future to the man stood next to her.

She reached out to touch the soft skin of the boy’s cheek as he giggled with delight and clapped his tiny hands.

Both adults laughed along with him, as Draco, holding tightly onto Scorpius, slid his arm around his love’s waist.

‘And young master Malfoy, I would like to introduce you to the most marvellous woman in all the world. Miss Hermione Jean Granger.’ He smiled up at her, as the child continued to laugh. Looking back down at his son, a serious expression now carved onto his face, the little boy stopped laughing to study his father’s features. ‘Now remember what I told you, we love her very much. And we won’t ever stop loving her because she’s too special to let go of. So that means minimal sicking up on her, and only the occasional peeing on her, ok mister?’

Hermione laughed at the moment shared between the two Malfoy men, as Scorpius erupted into a fit of giggles once again.

Wrapping her arms around the two, she looked up into Draco’s eyes, knowing she had never made a better decision in her life.

‘And I love the both of you very much too.’

Draco grinned like he never had before, as he leant down to capture her lips for his own, sealing their future: one filled with laughter, happiness, and above all,

Love.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who have commented and reviewed across all platforms. Constructive criticism, as we all know, is what fanfic writers thrive on. 
> 
> Obviously I am well aware that this has not been to everyone's taste, and especially as this is a repost of something I wrote four years ago, I have appreciated all feedback. Perhaps not so much the more abusive ones, but hey ho everyone has an opinion!
> 
> Thank you, if you have read this fic from start to finish, whichever way you may feel about this. Keep reading and keep shipping.


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